


Brunet Insomniac

by quinn_rossi



Series: Redheaded Insomniac [3]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Can be read as a stand alone, Feelings, Fluff, M/M, Not an xmas fic so it's fine to read in the summer lol, Roommates, Sexual Content, Smut, bc they're made to be thanks, if ya want, in love but they're just too dumb to realise, they eventually realise ;)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-05-02 05:54:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14538108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quinn_rossi/pseuds/quinn_rossi
Summary: When Ian goes home for the Christmas break, Mickey realises he can't sleep without Ian, especially since he's so confused about their relationship. Feelings. Confusion. Surprise Visits. Confessions. And some good times.Mickey and Ian have the best Christmas break ever.[Can be read stand alone from the Redheaded Insomniac series]





	1. Too Many Emotions But Not A Single Word To Describe Any

**Author's Note:**

> When I say it can be read as stand alone, I very much recommend reading 'Redheaded Insomniac', it's not too long. But then again, I can't control you ;)

Even though it had been two months since Ian sort of confessed his love, things still didn’t seem right. Sure, they fucked most nights and slept in the same bed every night, but Mickey wasn’t quite sure what they were and he was honestly just too scared to ask.

Did Mickey love Ian? Yes. So fucking much. His stomach got this crazy warm buzzing feeling when he was around him. He would do fucking anything for Ian. He wanted more than just fucking. He wanted road trips, looking at the stars, meeting the family he talked about too much, making soup when the other got sick, gently rubbing their back as they puked after an amazing night of too much to drink, petty fights that didn’t matter because you still _love_ each other.

But was Mickey going to tell Ian all that? Ha! Fuck no! Ian had said he loved him and never said it since. They fucked a lot but didn’t have time to talk when they were either sleeping or had classes. If Ian wanted something more than that with Mickey surely he would have asked. So Mickey kept his mouth shut and suffered with the anxiety silently.

The closest they had gotten so far to talking about feelings and what they are, was the night of the twenty second of December. Ian would be driving back home for Christmas tomorrow, and Mickey would stay in their room at the college halls because Mandy had moved too fucking far away and he didn’t have a home to go back to.

They sat on Mickey’s bed, drinking beer and binge watching Christmas movies on Ian’s laptop.

Ian wasn't too drunk, but Mickey was what some might call smashed.

He wouldn’t admit his excessive drinking was due to nerves and anxiety of Ian leaving him alone for two weeks, but it was. Ian would be leaving him uncertain of what they were, and it didn’t help that Ian confessed he loved him two months ago and never mentioned it again since. What the fuck was that about? Plus, Mickey was too pussyshit to bring up that stuff so now they were stuck, floating. Floating between best friends who fuck and something more.

Mickey rest his drunken head on Ian’s shoulder, chasing the comfort and warmth it provided, the protection from Chicago December.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep,” Ian said quietly although he didn’t try and nudge Mickey away. “It’s our last night together, don’t wanna waste it.”

“Don’t remind me,” Mickey bitterly muttered.

“You gonna miss me, huh?” Ian said in a teasing way, but Mickey was so drunk and tired and sad to really register that.

“No,” he simply replied. “Bitch.”

“You’re so kind, Mickey,” Ian laughed a little.

Mickey moved his head off Ian’s shoulder and crawled to lie down in the bed and under the covers - Ian still sitting up and looking down at him. Then Mickey threw an arm around Ian’s hips and buried his face against his warm body.

Ian sighed and gently ran his fingers through Mickey’s dark and messy hair. Then Ian froze.

Mickey was fucking crying into his hip.

“M-Mickey?” Ian asked, uncertain if he should just let the drunk brunette cry it out or try and help. He was his best friend - maybe more - after all, so it’d be wrong not to try and comfort him.

Mickey didn’t reply, even when Ian asked his name again. Mickey cried for a couple of minutes until he felt light-headed and then turned to defeated sniffling and slowing breaths.

Ian felt Mickey’s grip loosen and saw his opportunity to switch off and move the laptop away before slipping down the covers so Mickey’s head went from his hip to his shoulder.

Mickey sighed and let his face lean up to give Ian a kiss on the cheek. An odd move for Mickey really. They only kissed when they made out hard and intended on fucking. The kiss on Ian’s cheek lingered and burnt as Mickey buried his face into Ian’s sweatshirt and fell asleep.

This was the closest they got to understanding or discussing their relationship and Ian wanted more, needed to know more, before he went home for two weeks.

Ian was about to shake Mickey and wake him so they could talk, but Mickey was drunk and had just cried. The guy sounded so defeated and exhausted so Ian just let him sleep. The whole ‘what are we?’ conversation would have to wait for another day.

Ian didn’t press further.

When Mickey woke up the next morning to the sound of Ian’s seven am alarm, he felt like shit and tried hard to ignore the fact that that feeling wasn’t just due to the copious amount of beer he drank the night before (although it was a big part of it).

Ian hadn’t woken up from his alarm but Mickey turned it off anyway, wanting to steal a few more minutes with Ian like this, tucked under the warm sheets and hidden from the cold. Mickey admired the sleeping redhead for a moment.

Peaceful.

His lip quivered ever so slightly and quietly muttered words that were almost imperceptible and nonsensical. Mickey knew this stage of Ian’s sleep after an embarrassing amount of times he had watched the man do so when he himself couldn’t sleep.

He knew the next stage would be the part where he stretched his body and groaned as he did so, often rubbing his morning wood against Mickey’s ass. His eyes would squeeze shut and resist waking up.

Then Mickey would softly ask if he wanted him to suck him off. Ian would grunt in response and Mickey would do as he said. It then didn’t take long for Ian to wake up properly, snapping his hips up, grabbing Mickey’s hair, and muttering curses.

This morning however, Mickey wasn’t going to wait for his waking up stage. Nope. Mickey was going to run to the adjacent bathroom and puke last nights regrets up.

He puked, washed his mouth out with the tap water, then knelt back by the toilet because he was still tired and felt deflated.

He jumped a little - almost hitting his head on the toilet - when he felt a hand on his back and a person crouch beside him.

“You good, Mickey?” Ian asked, his voice a little broken from recently waking up.

“Yeah. You missed the worst of it.”

“You done?” Ian stood up and offered Mickey his hand to help him stand up.

“Yeah,” Mickey took Ian’s hand and stood up.

Fuck he felt so weak. Mickey had been hungover many times in his life, but this wasn’t like the rest. There was an added lump in his throat, tears hiding but ready to fall at any minute, and a heavy weight in his gut, slowing him down and making him unsure if he was going to vomit again or simply fall to the ground and never get up.

“Here,” Ian said and handed him a bottle of water once they were back in the bedroom.

Mickey took it and downed half of it quickly. Then Ian lead him back to his bed, pushing him down onto it and tucking him under the sheets.

Mickey let the whole thing happen. He didn’t even feel in control of himself so why should he try and control Ian? He felt weak and his body was willing to do anything to have Ian’s hands, Ian’s attention, on him.

“You sure you’re just hungover and not sick?” Ian asked as he crouched by the bed and felt Mickey’s _burning_ forehead.

“Just hungover.”

“Really? I don’t wanna leave you knowing that I’ve left you to die,” Ian laughed a little nervously.

“I’m fine. Too much beer. Just start packing, Gallagher, you don’t wanna miss that bus.”

Mickey turned on his side so he could watch Ian pack the open suitcase that he’d placed on top of his rarely used bed.

Ian gave Mickey a sad look, feeling guilty to leave his best friend (or whatever the fuck they were) in this state - for two weeks.

Ian packed quickly and was soon squatting by the bed again and checking Mickey’s forehead again.

“Why don’t you go back to sleep?” Ian suggested.

“Fuck no! You’re leaving in two hours, don’t wanna miss you go. I feel fine.”

“Mickey-”

“I’m fine!” Mickey snapped and turned himself in the bed to face the wall.

“Fuck,” Ian sighed.

Ian waited a moment before climbing in the bed too. He turned on his side and was glad that Mickey didn’t push him away. In fact, Mickey shuffled himself back into Ian, to press his back against his chest and let himself be spooned.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Ian said a few minutes later.

“You are?” Mickey asked because he was so uncertain of _everything_.

“Yeah.”

They don’t talk after that.

Ian reached for his phone and set an alarm in an hour and a half since he had to leave for his bus back home. Then he wraps his arm back around Mickey and they fall asleep.

Well, Ian fell asleep.

Mickey stayed awake. Thinking.

Mickey sucked at this. Why couldn’t he just use his fucking words and ask ‘hey are we just fuckbuddies or do we have a mutual love for each other and therefore should pursue a relationship together?’.

He decided to wait. Give Ian the two weeks break, chat on the phone during that time about normal shit and completely fucking avoid anything remotely about relationships, and then when he came back to college, tell him how he felt.

Easy. Right? Yes? Sure? Fuck!

Mickey groaned a little out of frustration and shut his eyes and tried to concentrate on getting some extra sleep rather than emotions and shit.

‘BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP’

‘BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP’

“ _Ian_ ,” Mickey groaned, nudging the sleeping redhead with his elbow.

‘BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP’

“Five more minutes,” Ian grumbled back and buried himself further beneath the covers.

‘BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP’

“Turn your fuckin’ alarm off, asshole!” Mickey elbowed him harder this time.

‘BEEP BEEP BEE-‘

Ian’s arm emerged from the sheets and shut his alarm off with a tap. Then he hid back under the covers and tried to get back to his rest.

Mickey turned himself to face Ian.

“Ian,” Mickey said, in a less pissed off tone than before. “You gotta wake up.”

“Nope,” Ian mumbled, eyes shut but smirking a little at his own stubbornness.

“You gotta be out that door in five minutes or you’ll miss the bus,” Mickey sadly said.

“Well I wanna spend those five minutes in bed with you.”

Mickey’s heart fucking fluttered at that.

He gently placed a hand on one of Ian’s cheeks and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. He didn’t give a fuck if Ian only considered them as buds who fuck. Ian didn’t react negatively when Mickey showed bits of affection that wasn’t sexual, so he saw this as good.

‘New Plan,’ Mickey thought. Affection. Hints. Just fucking do what he would do if they were boyfriends or some shit.

Ian smiled, eyes still shut, as Mickey gently stroked his cheek and then trailed his hand further. He traced the side of Ian’s neck, ran a hand down his sweater, slipped his fingers under at the end and felt the bumps of his toned abs, then pulled his zipped down and slipped a hand underneath his boxers to grab his quickly hardening cock.

“Mm,” Mickey hummed, feeling the effect he had on Ian from just feeling his body up.

Mickey shuffled forward so their forehead were almost touching. Their eyes were closed. Their mouths slowly kissed each other. There was no need, no time, to question what they were when they were concentrating on just _feeling_ the other person.

As Mickey slowly jerked Ian’s cock, Ian put his hand down Mickey’s pants and did the same.

Their hands were working pretty much in sync and they had stopped kissing and had turned to panting, moaning lightly, and groaning whenever a thumb slid across the slit and smeared precome or when a hand sped up, gripped a little tighter.

“Ian, I-” Mickey moaned and thrust his hips forwards and into Ian’s fist.

When Ian felt his hand get warm and wet as Mickey came, he followed and came into Mickey’s hand.

They waited for about half a minute, still stroking each other slowly, before Ian grabbed the tissues and cleaned them up quickly.

Ian smiled like a fucking dork and looked into Mickey’s eyes.

Mickey smiled back, looking back into his eyes and even reached a hand from under the covers to hold his and intertwine their fingers.

Mickey kissed him gently.

He looked at Ian again, his whole body warmed up and his gut was doing fucking backflips. He figured this was that fucking fairytale thing: Love.

It was then that Mickey realised that he was well and truly fucked.

Mickey hoped Ian was feeling that too. By the look on his face, he could take an educated guess to say he was feeling that.

But then his face fell, smile faded. It was like a wave of realisation of _something_ had hit him and travelled his body. Face first, cutting his smile. Then his hand that was holding Mickey’s flinched away like it burned. Then his whole body left the bed.

“I gotta go,” Ian stated. It was true, yes, their ten minutes were up. But Mickey had a feeling that what was just happening was part of it.

“Want me to walk with you to the station?” Mickey asked, ignoring his aching and confused heart.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Ian said, slipping on his boots and pulling on his coat.

“Oh.”

Ian stood a little awkwardly, both of them waiting for the other to say something. Anything. Fuck it, Mickey thought.

“Ay, can we - uh - talk?” Mickey finally broke the awkward silence.

“Is it gonna be long? I really have to go,” Ian replied.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, that’s fine, go.”

“You sure? Are you OK?”

Mickey gave Ian a small smile to relax the easily stressed redhead. “It’s fine. How about we meet during the break? New Years Eve or something?”

“I’d like that,” Ian smiled too.

“Good. Well, go, get your fuckin’ bus, Gallagher.”

Ian smiled and walked towards the door. He opened it and turned back around.

“Have a nice Christmas, Mickey,” he said - and left. Gone.

Mickey groaned and sat up in the bed, putting his head in his hands. They sort of had a date to talk about shit and Mickey wasn’t sure if he was dreading it or looking forward to figuring shit out.

He was about to collapse his body back into bed and go back to sleep, when the door opened and Ian ran back in.

“Galla-” Mickey was shut up by Ian kissing him.

A quick, yet passionate kiss.

Then he was once again gone, out of that door and leaving Mickey.

That just made things a whole lot more confusing. Fuck.


	2. You’re The Only Thing I Think About (But I’ll Be Damned If You Ever Find Out)

That night, Mickey lay in his bed, staring at the empty bed beside him. It wasn’t like he was imagining Ian in that bed because Ian never slept there. No, when he imagined Ian, he imagined him behind him with his strong arms around his body, or underneath him, with their limbs tangled and the perfect position to lean up and kiss him.

Ian was the only thing he could fucking think about. Fuck. He hoped Ian was thinking about him too.

***

Amongst all the booze and family chaos, Ian felt a little out of place, uncomfortable. It was almost robotic as he did the shots with everyone, his mind was too busy somewhere else to really listen to the jokes and stories being told.

Mickey Milkovich.

That gorgeous brunet was the only thing on his mind. 

Ian felt sick in his stomach and it probably wasn’t just the alcohol. He felt so bad for leaving him when he has nobody else. He was just too scared to ask if he wanted to stay, he didn’t know if that would be too much for Mickey and scare him away.

And oh fuck. Mickey said he wanted to talk to him. Ian was hoping that it was going to be Mickey telling him his feelings and saying he wanted more, but then again, Ian wasn’t sure what Mickey wanted. He kind of considered them a couple anyway, but wasn’t going to say that unless Mickey expressed that mutually too.

As he sat, sending another shot down his throat, he wondered: Is Mickey thinking about me too?

***

It was only when the sun started to rise on the day of Christmas Eve, that Mickey realised he wasn’t going to get any sleep.

“Fuckin’ shitty fuckin’ holiday,” Mickey grumbled as he headed for a shower.

When he got out of the shower and back in their room, he pulled a pair of sweatpants on and his eyes caught a certain green hoodie folded on Ian’s bed. Ian must have forgotten it.

He pulled it on his own body.

It was soft, warm, and smelt like Ian.

Ian always looked so beautiful in that fucking hoodie.

_Ian walked back into the room just two minutes after he said he was going out for a run._

_“That was a short run,” Mickey joked and checked him out._

_Green hoodie with no t-shirt underneath (he knew that because he watched him get dressed), shorts, trainers. Simple. But he looked hot._

_“Too cold,” Ian stated and pulled the hoodie over his head and chucked it on Mickey’s bed._

_“Then why the fuck are you getting naked?” Mickey asked, although he was never opposed to Ian stripping in front of him._

_“Wearing this instead,” Ian held up the t-shirt he had in one hand and a different - blue - sweatshirt in the other._

_Mickey shrugged and leaned forward to grab Ian’s discarded hoodie. It was kind of worn out because Ian was slowly building bulk and stretching it a little, but the inside was still soft._

_Mickey pulled the hoodie over his own body and gave Ian a look to dare him to protest. Ian simply smiled cutely at him and joined him under the warmth of the covers._

Mickey fell back into his bed, now with Ian’s hoodie hugging his body and part of it pulled over his face. He breathed in deeply and sighed. He closed his eyes tight and imagined what he’d say if it was Ian hugging his body and not just the green sweatshirt.

“I love you, Ian.”

If only he could fucking say that to his face.

***

Ian woke up with a shitty headache in his old bed in his old small room with two of his brothers. It was nice being back home and in this room again, even if it was only small and smelt like sweat.

He stretched his arms and legs and laughed to himself when he remembered how Mickey always feels about him stretching in the bed in the mornings.

_”Shit, sorry,” Ian apologised as he kicked the back of Mickey’s legs._

_“Fuck off, ya freaky giant,” Mickey grumbled and turned his body to face Ian._

_“Small bed,” Ian shrugged, smiling at the grumpy as fuck look on Mickey’s face._

_“Yeah,” Mickey agreed._

_Mickey was about to suggest pushing the two twin beds together or even buying a bed they can share and both fit in without attacking the other person just so they can stretch. He decided against it, maybe that was too much too fast. Fuck._

Ian reached for his phone on his bedside table. Mickey hadn’t called or texted which made him kind of sad, but Mickey never usually initiated things, he always seemed a little insecure.

“Gallagher,” Mickey said down the phone.

“You’re not dead!” Ian declared and laughed.

“Sleeping. I think I’ve caught the thing you got.”

“Uh, what thing?” Ian asked, confused.

“The whole ‘can’t sleep unless I’m next to someone’ thing.”

Ian laughed and was sort of glad that Mickey wasn’t there to see him smile as he just thought about that dork, “So you miss me, huh?”

“Fuck you is what I miss,” Mickey shrugged it off. He mentally cursed himself. Why didn’t he just fucking admit it! Why didn’t he just say ‘Yeah, I missed you. Do you miss me?’ Why were words so fucking hard to say?!

“You just told me you were sleeping. How did you do it then?” Ian asked, hoping and praying that Mickey hadn’t gone out and slept with someone like Ian used to do when he couldn’t sleep.

“Ah,” Mickey nervously thought for a second. “You - uh - left a hoodie. I kinda wore it.”

Ian was a grinning, blushing mess right now, and he knew that if Mickey were here he’d tease the fuck out of him. OK, maybe he did want Mickey here. He could handle the teasing if it meant he got to see him wear his hoodie.

He missed him. He wanted him here so he could just see how good he knew he’d look wearing his clothes, and then how fucking good he’d look without the clothes. Now Ian wasn’t sure if he wanted Mickey here because he liked him (an understatement really, Ian _loved_ Mickey), or because he was kind of horny. Probably both.

He tried to think what he’d do if Mickey was there.

He’d wrap the blankets around them both (it was fucking cold), and they’d watch dumb Christmas movies like the other night, then they’d fall asleep after a good couple of hours of whispering random shit in the dark.

Oh shit. Ian was so in love.

“I miss you,” was all Ian could think to say after he realised he left it silent for too long.

Mickey sighed, “I miss you too.”

“ComedownhereandspendChristmaswithmeandmyfamily,” Ian said as quick as he fucking could.

“You speak fuckin’ English?”

“Sorry,” Ian mumbled and took a deep breath. “Come down here and spend Christmas with me and my family. If you’re not busy and if you want to, of course. I’ve told them quite a lot about you so they’re dying to meet you. Plus, I fucking miss you and feel bad because you’re by yourself when you could be down here. Shit. I’m sorry. Was that too much? It’s OK if you don’t wanna come. I’m sorry. I was -”

“GALLAGHER!” Mickey shouted, stopping Ian mid-rant. “You don’t half fuckin’ ramble on, don’t ya?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Ian nervously laughed, waiting for Mickey’s reply.

There was a short silence before Mickey spoke again, “Text me your address.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this was easy to follow with the switching perspectives and mini flashbacks.
> 
> Our boys need some quality cuddling, talking, and fucking... Coming soon to a chapter near you lol ;)


	3. Idiots in Love

A three and a half hour drive later, Mickey was parked outside of the Gallagher house. He watched the blue-gray house nervously, his mind racing between walking up to it and seeing Ian, or just driving the fuck off, running away and avoiding his fears like usual.

He was anxious. What if Ian didn’t return the feelings? What if Ian just wanted to be fuck buddies or some shit? Then it’d just be really awkward because Mickey had a big fucking crush on the guy, like the kind of crush that made your heart fucking sing just to see the person. Mickey was so fucked.

He took a couple of breaths to calm himself down before finally leaving the car and heading through the gate and up the front stoop.

He knocked on the door twice and stood back, nervously shoving his hands into the pockets of his worn coat.

The sounds of the locks being undone and a latch being slid aside rang loudly in Mickey’s ears. There was no going back now. He had to tell Ian exactly how he felt.

Except, it wasn’t Ian who answered the door.

Instead there was some seven foot tall giant (OK, maybe that was an exaggeration), with dark hair in a ponytail and a red Christmas hat, squinting at him.

“Is - uh - Ian here?” Mickey asked, now scared that maybe he’d gotten the wrong house.

“Depends,” the guy shrugged.

“Fuck you mean ‘depends’? He fuckin’ here or not?” Mickey snapped. He had been driving for too long and was _not_ in the mood for games.

“Don’t get salty, sweetie,” the man laughed, no doubt not intimidated by Mickey. “Yes, Ian’s here.”

Mickey groaned with frustration, getting increasingly more anxious. “Can I fuckin’ see him then?”

The guy nodded and then turned his head into the house to yell, “IAN, SOME HOBBIT MAN IS HERE FOR YOU!”

Mickey blinked with disbelief for a moment. ‘Hobbit man’? _’Hobbit man’?_ No one had ever called him ‘Hobbit man’ before. Mickey was straight up ready to deck this guy, but then he remembered he was probably part of Ian’s family/friends that were over for Christmas, early drinking and probably drugs of some kind were likely involved, so instead Mickey took a deep breath and waited for Ian to come out the door.

After a fucking eternity later, Ian finally took the guy’s place. Ian gave him a dumb grin that made his heart flutter and then pulled him into a kiss he wasn’t expecting but fucking loved.

“Hey, Hobbit,” Ian chuckled.

Mickey’s eyebrows shot to his hairline, daring Ian to say that again. Ian just shrugged and kissed him again.

“Who the fuck was that dude, and can I kill him?” Mickey asked, now laughing alongside Ian.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” Ian replied like it was obvious.

“The fuck’s that got to do with it?”

“Everyone is _very_ drunk already. That was Kev, our neighbour. Come in,” Ian opened the door and they walked in together. “We’ll just sneak up stairs. Follow me.”

Mickey followed Ian quietly, throwing a quick glance to the large group of people partying in the living room who didn’t notice them slip in. They went up the stairs and down a short hall before stopping at a door.

“This is the bedroom,” Ian said as they walked into the small room. “I share it when I’m home with two, sometimes three, of my brothers.”

An empty toddler bed, empty bunk bed, and an empty single bed. The room was understandably a mess with the walls plastered in posters and the floor covered in clothes and various ‘miscellaneous’ items.

Ian leaned against the door, arms folded across his head and had an almost challenging, daring, smirk on his lips.

“Guess what bed’s mine,” Ian offered.

It didn’t take Mickey long to figure out the single bed was Ian’s. It had way too many blankets and throws on it to be considered normal. Sure, it was winter and could get cold, but Ian was never satisfied unless he had like six blankets _smothering_ him. (The warmth of Mickey’s body was the preferable substitute for many blankets, but the whole ‘two hundred miles apart because college holiday’ thing had meant Ian had to turn to the blankets for help.)

“Why’d we have to sneak past everyone? They don’t want me here or something?” Mickey asked as he pushed some of the blankets off Ian’s bed to make room for them to sit.

“Ah…” Ian’s face went red and he sat down beside Mickey, making a nervous sound that lay somewhere between coughing and laughing.

“Hidin’ something, Gallagher?”

“Hm - well - I - I talk about you a lot, yeah? And they made assumptions… They may or may not be expecting my _boyfriend_ to be staying for Christmas,” Ian stammered.

“Oh…What did you tell them to make them think that?”

“What I told you,” Ian sighed, “That I was in love.”

Mickey bit his lip, unsure if he really wanted to ask what he was about to ask, but he had to know. “You still in love?”

Ian sighed loudly and finally looked at Mickey, meeting those beautiful blue eyes, desperately waiting for an answer.

“Yeah, I am,” Ian confessed. “But, you didn’t say it back, so I held back and figured you’d rather just stay as friends or whatever the fuck we are.”

Mickey actually found himself laughing quietly. The relief washed over him, finally calming this damn tension and anxiety he’s had for way too long now.

Ian loved him. Holy fuck, Ian still loved him.

“You’re a fuckin’ dumbass,” Mickey chuckled and reached a hand to hold one of Ian’s cheeks and look him in the eyes. “The only reason I didn’t say it back is because you then changed the conversation to how hot I looked, and proceeded to suck me off. It’s hard to think when you’re mouth is working fuckin’ wonders on my cock, Gallagher.”

_They lay happily tangled in each other in a post-sex euphoric haze. Then Ian spoke:_

_“Mickey. His name’s Mickey,” Ian confidently said._

_“What?”_

_“The guy who I said I was in love with,” Ian reminded him. “His name’s Mickey.”_

_If Mickey wasn’t blushing before, he sure as shit was now. He smiled stupidly, thinking of what Ian said. ‘In love’. Mickey thought about it for a moment (although he’d thought about it many times before) and he knew, that he too, was in love._

_“You look so hot,” Ian whispered in his ear, suddenly pulling him out of his thoughts._

_“Huh?”_

_“I wanna suck your cock,” Ian chuckled and slowly slid down the bed, grabbing Mickey’s cock and making him gasp and forget anything he was about to say._

“You really did look hot,” Ian defended. “Fine, if I didn’t say that you were hot and therefore not give you an _amazing_ blowjob, what would you have said back?”

Mickey leaned forward, pressing their lips together in a short yet tender kiss. When they pulled apart, he pressed their foreheads together and sighed happily, huffing a short almost silent laugh.

“I woulda said I’m in love with you too,” Mickey smiled. “So in fuckin’ love with you, it’s fuckin’ crazy, man.”

“So that mean I can introduce you to my family as my boyfriend?” Ian asked.

“Fuck yeah,” Mickey muttered and kissed him hard again, sliding his fingers into Ian’s soft red hair.

The kiss depend, slowly becoming more desperate and sloppy. Their tongues swiped against each other, licking into each other’s mouths, and teeth bit softly at lips.

As soon as Ian made a small whine, Mickey fucking shivered. He threw a leg over Ian, pulling himself onto his lap and straddling him.

They kissed more, grinding their bodies hungrily together. Eventually, they had to stop and breathe.

“I’ve never felt what I feel when I’m with you, with anyone else before,” Mickey vulnerably confessed, needing to get all those feelings off his chest. “It’s an amazing fuckin’ feelings.”

“Fuck, I love you,” Ian grinned, his hands slowly feeling Mickey’s thighs. “We’re both fucking stupid though. We could have been boyfriend’s for like two fucking months.”

“I was waiting for you to say somethin’,” Mickey defended himself.

“And I was waiting for _you_ to say something,” Ian countered.

They laughed quietly at the realisation that they both had been a little stubborn, kinda idiots. But they were idiots together.

They pressed their foreheads together, calming from the laughing.

“I love you too,” Mickey whispered, his mouth close to Ian’s as if he was saying it into his mouth.

The pressed their lips together again. This time, it was less rushed and eager. This time, it was more soft and loving.

“NO WAY!”

Mickey and Ian both jumped apart, snapping their heads in the direction of the interrupting person who was stood at the door of the bedroom. That tall twat with a Christmas hat.

“HOBBIT MAN IS IAN’S BOYFRIEND!” Kev shouted behind him, likely to the gathering downstairs.

Mickey looked just about ready to jump up and _kill_ Kevin, luckily Ian noticed and placed his hand on Mickey’s.

“Guess that’s our cue to go introduce you to my family,” Ian said, standing from the bed. “Hobbit man,” he added, smirking and completely not intimidated by what could only be described as a death glare from Mickey. “You ready?”

“I guess,” Mickey shrugged and followed Ian out.

When they stepped downstairs and into the living room, everyone turned to face the two of them.

“Uh- This is Mickey,” Ian said, breaking the silence.

There was another tense silent pause, and then:

“OH MY GOSH! _THE _Mickey?” a lady, who Mickey took a guess and assumed was Ian’s older sister, Fiona, looked utterly shocked.__

__“Yep,” Ian answered._ _

__“Ian does _not_ shut up about you! And he’s only been home a day!” she grinned._ _

__“Fiona-” Ian warned, going ridiculously red in the face._ _

__“Aw, don’t worry, I won’t embarrass ya! I’m not drunk enough - yet.”_ _

__Mickey heard Ian groan, and then there was a hand pulling at his sleeve and encouraging him to go upstairs. Mickey took a look at Ian’s bright red and embarrassed face, and took pity on him, following him back up the stairs._ _

__“ _Noooo_!” Fiona shouted as they disappeared. “That wasn’t a proper introduction to your boyfriend, Ian!”_ _

__“She’s kinda right,” Mickey said to Ian, trying so hard not to laugh at him._ _

__“We’ll do a more proper introduction at dinner, when everyone’s less giddy,” Ian said as they walked into the bedroom again, locking it this time so no eight foot tall guy could come in and call Mickey ‘hobbit man’._ _

__“So…” Mickey smirked, slowly backing Ian up against the door. “You don’t shut up about me, huh?”_ _

__“I might have mentioned you like once or twice,” Ian defensively said._ _

__Ian’s back hit the door and he finally stopped looking nervously at his hands to look up at Mickey, who had an eyebrow raised and a playful smirk on his lips._ _

__“Once or twice?” Mickey asked._ _

__Ian sighed, “Maybe more. It was hard not to. You’re all I think about.”_ _

__“That’s gay,” Mickey mumbled, brushing an imaginary piece of hair off Ian’s cheek._ _

__“Yeah, kinda is,” Ian slowly replied, eyes wandering down to Mickey’s lips before they crashed together, kissing hungrily._ _

__“Hey, hey, hey,” Ian murmured a minute later, gently pulling away and smiling at Mickey’s little confused face. “Christmas movies?”_ _

__“Christmas movies? You get off to Santa or somethin’? What the fuck?” Mickey blinked at Ian, unsure if he was joking._ _

__“I don’t want to rush things,” Ian shrugged and lightly pushed his fingers through Mickey’s hair as he took in every beautiful detail of his face. “I like you.”_ _

__“Rush things?” Mickey raised his brow._ _

__“I just wanna spend some time before we get to business, you know?” Ian said with a grin on his face. “Now that we’ve got everything sorted, let’s actually do this properly. Watching Christmas movies in my bed can be our first date!”_ _

__Mickey groaned and looked at Ian. Ian had those big, green, pleading eyes, the kind that no good person could say no to._ _

__“Fine!” Mickey gave in. “You pick the film then.”_ _

__“Thank _you_ ,” Ian said in a sing-song kind of way and then kissed Mickey quickly before he left Ian’s lap._ _

__They moved to under the covers, sitting up with their backs against pillows pushed onto the wall, their legs tangled underneath the sheets, and a laptop currently loading _’Elf’_ ontop their laps._ _

__Mickey nervously bit his lip, before going for it and giving Ian a gently kiss on the cheek. “I love you,” he whispered as the movie started._ _

__Ian turned his head to give him a proper kiss and muttered back, “I love you too.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, sorry, I forgot to post the chapter... I really wasn't feeling it, so I kind of just cut it off and only just realised I didn't post it. You still deserve the chapter, even if I think it's just mEh. I hope you liked it anyway though <3

**Author's Note:**

> *gasp* shit, i started writing another multi chapter. Only three chapters so it won't be a very long one. I hope you like it so far. Don't worry though, the two dorks will talk it out and fuck it out soon ;)


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